“One can’t tell. One day her mother swept into the bedroom of the family townhouse, sweeping across the floor with a bundle in her arms. It made me wake up, and there I lay thinking of you, spending your nights up here all alone, and no one to look after you. . She sat in a chair in the parlour and regarded the darkening sky through the small casement window. The tears were welling over now, but her voice was steady. ’ Roding left the house instantly, not even pausing to nod. " "There are bad stories, then, just as there are bad people?" "Yes.
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